Those Who Favour Fire
by seilleanmor
Summary: He wants to choke out words like I love you and I want you and kiss me but they're suddenly foreign. He doesn't think they'll communicate effectively what he needs to say. Future, established Caskett, birthday present for my nugget. IN PROGRESS
1. Chapter 1

_To my girlfriend on the anniversary of your birth. I love you.  
_

* * *

From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire

**- Fire And Ice, _Robert Frost_**

* * *

**Those Who Favor Fire**

She's lost. She's right there, but damn it, he's losing her. Everything's too heavy, he can't breathe properly.

A bonfire on the beach. The flames are beautiful. So completely, breathtakingly beautiful. They stretch into the air, golden, crackling wisps against the inky night. The heat is overwhelming. He feels stupid, hovering a safe distance from the scorching heat but wrapped in a blanket.

But then, the comfort? He needs it, unashamedly. Absolutely cannot survive this, and her, and losing her. Not that a blanket will make her stay, make her talk to him, not that it holds any power over her actions. Nevertheless, he wraps it just a little tighter around his broad frame.

Alexis and his mother have long gone inside to bed. They only drove up today and both declared they were exhausted after he was satisfied they'd had enough marshmallows. Now it's just him and her. Sitting on the sand, on his little stretch of private beach at his Hamptons house, watching the flames.

No one has spoken since the other two women in his life went inside. He wants to choke out words like _I love you_ and _I want you_ and _kiss me_ but they're suddenly foreign. He doesn't think they'll communicate effectively what he needs to say.

He can see her profile in his peripheral vision and God; she's more beautiful every time he catches sight of her. She doesn't look sad. But much to his chagrin, she doesn't look happy either. The word for this, the straight line of her mouth, the hint of a crease between her brows, is on the tip of his tongue. Pensive. He doesn't like that word. It's dangerous, especially when it's Kate. It's too easy, even now, for her to doubt.

She buries her toes in the sand, scrunching them against it. Her fingers are curled against her palms, the cuffs of her sweater sleeves trapped between them. Her fingers are so long and slender and now he knows what those nails feel like scratching down his spine even her hands are overwhelming.

She reaches up to scratch at her nose, wraps her hand back around her bent knees, holding them to her chest, without ever tearing her gaze from the fire. She shivers a little and he can't help himself, _I love you I love you I love you I love you_ a stream of it cutting him through, tearing, escaping and he's choking on it he needs it out.

"Are you cold?" She finally turns to look at him, twin fires reflected in her eyes. Her beautiful eyes, mysteriously green and brown at the same time and framed with a thick expanse of long, charcoal lashes.

She smiles softly, moonlight hugging the planes of her face, casting her in delicious shades of ebony and ivory. She is even more beautiful in black and white. "A little, I guess. I can deal."

He moves, settles in the sand right next to her. Their thighs are touching and it is nothing to reach out and hold her hand, still around her knees, still her home territory, but he's_ there_ and right now that's all he needs.

He doesn't speak for a while, waits for the skin of his palms to stop tingling, thrumming with the feel of her hand in his. "I don't want you to have to deal. I want you to be happy."

She turns to him again, eyes wide. "I am happy." Her mouth stays open a while, he waits for her to say more, give him more, but she's empty.

Everything feels too big. Out here, with the stars watching, every move he makes is monumental. He brushes her thigh with his knuckles, her shudder radiates through him. She isn't cold now.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" She doesn't look at him, still engrossed by the flames before them. "The way it can be so good when it's under control, can keep you warm. But how easily it can get out of control, destroy everything."

_Oh_. Oh, _Kate_.

He coughs, stumbling over the words. "Do you think that's going to happen to us, Kate? Do you think we're going to destroy everything?"

She blinks hard, eyes glistening with moisture. He can see in the line of her throat, the set of her jaw, the effort it costs her to keep her tears at bay.

"Not you. Just me." She bites at her bottom lip, worrying the raw patch. On a particularly bad case, the inside of her lip is dense and calloused. Temporary scar tissue. He knows this, because he's tried to soothe it with his tongue before now.

He squeezes her hand, feels her bones slide under his fingers, and then he lets go, draws his hand back into his own lap, his legs crossed. He can't focus while he's touching her, keeps getting distracted by how soft her skin is.

"No. Kate, no. You're not going to break this." His voice is heavy with emotion, thick and so close to breaking he would be ashamed if he wasn't so blinded by fear. "What we have. God, Kate, it's so good. I've never been happier."

She dips her head, chin brushing the apex of her knees, a perfect tear sliding down her nose. His breath sticks in his throat. There are so many words he needs to give her; he's drowning in them, a swirling vortex in his head.

"Listen to me. You're not going to break this. We're doing it together." He has to show her, somehow, please. He has to fix this. Cannot lose her.

Damn it, he's a selfish bastard and just for once please someone have mercy. He never asked for fame or money. Would give it all in a heartbeat just please _let him just have Kate_.

He finds her hand again, stands up and pulls her up too. Their fingers slide together, interwoven. This way, he can keep her close, allow the heat of her body to soothe him and pray it doesn't pull him under.

They walk together down to the shoreline, him leading her. They're both barefoot. She stops to roll her jeans up her ankles and he stops too, captivated. Her ankles are slender and strong and beautiful and God, he loves this woman.

The water laps at them, it's colder than perhaps it ought to be but he doesn't care. He's in deeper than her as they walk along the line where the waves hit the sand, painted silver in the moonlight.

When they reach the point where they can't see any houses anymore, he stops. She stumbles against him and shoots him a glare when the icy water splashes on the hem of her pants. He drops her hand to wrap his arm low around her waist, fingers pressing against her hipbone. Her head falls to his shoulder and he presses a kiss to her hair.

He looks out at the stars above the water, breath held. He can't get past the rapt wonder that fills him, has to take a minute to let it sink in. "It makes you feel insignificant, doesn't it?"

She hums noncommittally and he kisses her temple for that, for being her. "Makes you feel like you don't really matter, not in the grand scheme of things."

She tenses a little. He hopes she can hold on, keep listening. She always does, always waits for him to make his point.

"But the way I see it, I don't need to matter in the grand scheme of things Kate, the stars don't need to know my name. As long as I matter to _someone_. And you? You make me feel like I'm worth something, like I count for something."

She's silent. He holds his breath again, hopes he didn't go too far, hopes she understands.

That he needs her. That the thought of losing her, letting her go is not only inconceivable but a notion that it physically pains him to entertain.

She turns her face into him, breathes quietly against his clavicle. He doesn't realise she's crying until she brings her hand up to wipe at her eyes, and then he's rocking her gently, hushing against the top of her head. Just sounds, trying to soothe her.

"I'm sorry, love. Please don't cry." She laughs then, and his heart soars in exultation, euphoric and foolish and so very in love with her.

"I'm just happy, that's all."

He squeezes her, her hip shifting to dig into his side. "That's all we need. Just be happy, and the rest can follow."

She smiles; he feels her teeth against his neck, his jaw, scratching at his stubble. She nips at him, catching his flesh in her teeth and soothing him with her tongue. He pushes her away just a little, just enough that he can see her face.

He cups her jaw with his palm, fingertips against her cheekbone. She turns her face into his hand, kisses his palm. "Why now? Why the sudden doubt?"

She closes her eyes, lids heavy. Takes a deep, shuddering breath and looks out across the water. "I don't know. I just. I don't want to lose you."

He kisses her then, tries to pour his love for her into it, tries to just show her, because sometimes there aren't words. He pulls away, levels his forehead against hers. "You're not losing me. I'm here."

She nods, her forehead sliding against his. He kisses the end of her nose, the beauty mark under her eye. He needs to recapture how youthful she was yesterday, the day before. When they first got here.

He shifts his arms, one palm spanning the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. Her hands snake around his waist inside his jacket, he can feel her nimble fingers at the tender flesh of his sides.

He starts to sway gently, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. There's no music but he thinks the waves and the soft sounds of the night will suffice.

He relishes the gentle slide of her bones beneath his palms, the way she moves with him, the achingly soft curve of her breasts against his chest.

"I could do this forever." She whispers it, though there's no one around to witness this moment, no one they have to hide from anymore.

He kisses her hair again, can't imagine ever getting tired of that. "Me too." There's a lot more he could say, but he thinks the way he tightens his hold on her is enough.

Eventually, when the moment is so perfect he can't imagine it can last, he removes his arms from around her waist. It's cleaner - less painful - to break something on purpose than it is to watch it shatter. He takes her hand because damn it, he needs tangible evidence that she's still with him. "I, uh, I have something in the garage."

She furrows her brows at him, a soft smile dancing at the corners of her lips. He kisses the place between her eyebrows, because she's adorable and he can. Tugs on her hand to get her to follow him.

"Come on," and then they're running along the beach. Peals of her delicious laughter ring out behind them as sand sprays from her heels. She pulls her hand free from his to sprint ahead of him and he pushes harder against the soft surface, his calves burning with his need to reach her.

He catches up to her, wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her back against him. Loses his footing and they fall, tumbling onto the sand. She's still laughing as she curls up against his side, nose at his chest, her ankle hooked over his. He's flat on his back, laid bare to the night sky.

Her laughter dies down eventually and they lie in silence together, him watching the stars and pretending he doesn't feel her gaze dissecting him. He rolls his head to the side, nudges at her nose with his.

She allows him to kiss her languidly, her fingers drumming a staccato rhythm on his chest for a while and then she pulls away, a quiet gasp as cold air rushes to fill the space between them. She smirks as he tries to follow her mouth with his, craving her warmth. "What's in the garage?"

It's a splintering ache to sit up, leave the heat of her against his side, but he does. Circles round the side of the house and ducks in the front door to snag his car keys from the table in the hall. He opens his car and rummages in the glove box for the remote for the garage door.

He stands up, shuts the car door and turns to find Kate watching him with her arms folded, one foot tapping out a metronome in time with his heartbeat. He wraps his arms around her from behind again, gently this time. Not capturing her, cherishing. He brushes soft kisses against the skin of her scapula, exposed where his sweatshirt falls down around her shoulders.

He hands her the remote, lets her open the door and then they're walking inside the garage, him crowding her back. He feels like a teenager, desperate to touch every inch of her, tease her.

He steps around her to hunt through the piles of beach toys, loungers and sun umbrellas that decorate the floor of his garage. Finally, he finds what he's looking for. He tugs the package free, the plastic wrapping crinkling.

He straightens, schooling his face into a beaming grin before pivoting around to face Kate. Her eyes shoot straight to his hands and she grins widely, the smile where he can see all her teeth.

"Sky lanterns?" She laughs at him, but it's affectionate.

"Yeah. Have you ever done them before? Alexis and I did last summer and they were so much fun and-" He cuts himself off, not sure she can handle the rest of what he wants to say right now. About how their beauty, delicate and fragile but strong enough to fly, to battle the elements, reminded him so much of her.

About how he made his daughter wish on the golden orbs as they ascended into the night. About how he thinks maybe they, he and Kate, could use a wish.

She raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't bother to question him. It's an annoying quirk they're both used to, him more so than her but nevertheless, she knows better than to ask. He's better now, at sharing. Can't help the torrent of words that pours from him when the early morning light bathes her as she lies in his bed. When she tasted the pasta sauce they were making for dinner right off the spoon, tongue darting out to catch some of the thick, red sauce and then drawing in. Her eyelids had fluttered and she'd hummed in delight at the taste. And his heart had soared.

He shrugs, takes her hand again and they walk back around his house to the beach. The bonfire has died down considerably, but there are still enough flames for him to light the little fuel cell.

He's talking, as he hunts for a stick, as she cradles the package to her chest and waits him out. "They're actually illegal in some places because of the fire hazard, but this one will be over the ocean so it'll be fine."

"Isn't it dangerous for the wildlife in the ocean though?" He falters for a moment, struck once again by how loving she is, how her heart aches for even the smallest creature.

"Nope, it's biodegradable. I made sure to get the ones that are a hundred percent wire free, Alexis freaked out at the thought of killing a narwhal."

Her laugh fills him. He stands up, having found a stick he can use as a makeshift match. His back pops as he straightens and he grimaces. He's getting old. The thought is sobering, a little terrifying. He's done wasting time. No more. Kate, no more.

He holds the stick in the bonfire, waiting for it to catch light. He's so engrossed in the flames and yes, more than a little distracted by how old he suddenly feels that when he feels her delicate hands snake around his waist, under his shirt, he startles. She laughs at him, cheek pressed to his back.

"You look sad. You okay?"

He turns in her arms, hands falling to her hips. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." She smiles softly. He reaches out to brush some leftover sand from her temple, thumb caressing her skin for far longer than necessary. "How could I not be? Look at you."

She dips her head, cheeks flushing. Her hair falls forward, casting her cheekbones into stark relief. She looks too thin this way; he pushes her hair back behind her ear, trailing his fingertips over the shell of it.

"So beautiful," he breathes. She rests her forehead against his sternum, bare toes wiggling in the sand.

He holds her there for a moment, one hand at her lower back, the other cradling her head. Plays with her hair, twining strands of it through his fingertips.

"Are we gonna do the lantern?"

He squeezes her and then lets her go, already awash with longing. Carnal need burns low in his stomach, but far stronger is his desire to simply _be_ with her. To just breathe, feel her breathing next to him.

He dropped the stick he found in the fire so he could cradle her hips and he doesn't feel even a flicker of regret. It's nothing to find another stick. Other sticks, no other Kate, not ever.

He lights it, pulls it out of the bonfire and stands with it. "Do you want to light it or hold it?"

She shrugs in his peripheral vision. "Uh, I'll light it. Your arms are bigger, you can hold it easier."

He hands her the stick, watches as she cups the flame with her perfect hand, sheltering it. There isn't much wind tonight, only a gentle breeze really. He wonders if it's a natural reflex of hers, to protect the defenceless, and suddenly he's struck with an image of her cradling a tiny head covered in dark, downy hair to her chest, blue eyes blinking up at them both. He swallows past the solid lump in his throat.

God, she's going to be the most incredible mother.

He picks up the package from the floor and opens the plastic wrapping, slides the lantern out easily. He pulls on the top of it and the whole thing pops out, suddenly three dimensional. He holds the rim of it, lifts it high enough that Kate can get at the underneath. She holds the burning stick to the fuel cell until it catches light and then drops the stick to the floor, where the sand puts it out.

He holds the lantern, watching as she kicks sand onto the bonfire to extinguish it. When the fire's out, she joins him, taking hold of the opposite side of the rim. They have to hold it until it feels buoyant. When he did this with Alexis, they'd just _known_ when to let it go, and he's hoping the same will happen again.

"I wonder how it works." He muses, trying to see her over the top of the lantern.

She pokes her head around the side of it to look at him and he grins. "The air inside is heated, which lowers the density of it, so it can float."

He closes his eyes, making a show of swallowing hard. "God, you're so hot when you're smarter than me." She snorts at him as she slides her hand out so just her fingertips are supporting the lantern. He copies her and she bounces her hand, testing the buoyancy of the light.

"Okay, I think it's ready," she says, and they both let go. For one heart-stopping moment, it looks like it's going to crash at their feet, but Kate supports it, encourages it upwards with her fingertips and then it's floating.

She cranes her head back to watch it rise over the ocean, her lips parted in rapture. Her eyes are wide, he can see twin reflections of the lantern and the water and the star-dotted sky in the pools of chocolate and moss.

He's trying to watch the lantern, really he is. It's beautiful, as it floats away from them, shrinking gradually. But Kate? God, Kate is breathtaking. It's a fight to tear his eyes from her, perfect bone structure, gentle smile, eyes wide and innocent and entranced.

When the light disappears she turns back to him, beaming, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes and he knows. He cradles her face in his palms, kisses her softly and then drops his hands to hold both of hers. Watches her face for a moment, swallows and blinks.

"Marry me."

She goes completely still, every muscle, every nerve, every chemical reaction in her body frozen.

"What?"

She chokes it out, disbelief coating her words.

"Marry me, Katie."

He could do the big speech. Lord knows he has enough words to give her, can paint the picture until her knees give. But they don't need it now. He's going to spend the rest of their lives giving her the words, has already given her four books worth.

She's a simple kind of woman, not at all impressed by the flashier side of his lifestyle. She makes him simpler, too. Helps him to understand that the actions are the important part.

She nods, the tears already in her eyes now spilling down her cheeks, and then she falls against him. His arms come up to cradle her, swaying with her gently. He kisses wherever he can reach, not paying attention to where his lips are landing.

"I love you," he breathes to her. He's said it a few times since the argument, since the night he thought he'd truly lost her, but he tries to save it. He uses it when he's so overwhelmed with it that all the other phrases he falls to first, _you're incredible_, _you're beautiful_, _I can't believe you're mine_, don't cut it anymore. It means more to them both that way. She's said it less than he has. She says it every day. Smiles, coffee, soft caresses as she walks past him because she just can't help herself.

She pulls back to meet his eyes, smile uncontrollable, splitting her face wide open so he sees it all. "I love you too."

She falls back to his chest, needing his warmth now the fire's out. She shivers in his arms, he feels her try to stifle a yawn and it suddenly hits him how late it is, that his mother and daughter went to bed almost two hours ago.

He kisses her temple, her jaw, works his way to her mouth and loses himself there for a time, forgetting that there are waves that want to lap at his ankles, stars that want him to bask in their glory, sand that's working itself into every crevice it can find.

"Let's go to bed. It's late." She smiles, nodding.

"Mmkay," a soft sigh. He's seen her like this a few times, when she becomes so tired she can't even form a sentence. It's adorable. When she's like this, she gives him her most heartfelt confessions.

He leads her onto the deck and pushes open the sliding door. Dropping her hand when they hit the freezing linoleum of the kitchen floor, he dances his way across it. Shaking his butt and bending his knees, he allows his joy to radiate out of him. He stops at the sound of her delighted laughter, turns to see his fiancée, and wow, what a beautiful phrase that is, clinging to the counter in a desperate attempt to stay standing as her laughter wracks her slender frame.

"What," she inhales hard, "are you _doing_."

He grins, utterly elated. "I love to wiggle." He continues his dancing, moving over the floor to her until he can kiss her gently. He pulls back and her eyes sparkle.

"What have I done?" she muses. He scoops her into his arms and she buries her face against him to muffle her shriek, ever mindful of the presence of Alexis and his mother.

He carries her all the way to their bedroom and then he sets her on her feet. Growing serious, he unzips her sweater, _his _sweater actually, and helps her out of it, sliding her sweatpants down her hips until they pool at her feet.

She stands in just an NYPD shirt. He learned quite early on that she likes to sleep with her legs unobstructed by pants, found it fascinating. Now, it's just Kate. He's quick to shirk his own clothes, it's warm here and so he'll sleep in just his boxer shorts.

He kisses her again as she passes him for the bathroom, busies himself pulling back the sheets and closing the blinds until she's back. Then it's his turn, and he doesn't remember ever getting ready for sleep this fast. He's burning with the need to be back in her arms.

She's lying face down on the bed, sprawled out in a star shape like a horizontal jumping jack. He climbs onto the bed on all fours, nips along her spine, teeth and tongue and lips and she tastes amazing.

"Mm," he hums, "a virgin edge." She rolls over to look at him.

"What are you talking about?" She laughs as she says it so he knows he's not in trouble for his crazy talk.

He grins at her. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm just excited. You're going to be my wife." She beams then, too. He can see it in her eyes, the happiness. He feels about ready to join the lantern. He could float. He could. He is.

They rearrange themselves so they're lying in a more conventional position, her head pillowed on his chest, his arm around her.

She smells so good. He forgets sometimes, and then it hits him, that every facet of this woman is not perfect, but perfect for him.

She's rubbing at the empty space on her left hand, where her fourth finger meets her knuckle. He catches that hand in his own, kisses the spot.

"I didn't get a ring. You can choose one when we get back to the city." She shrugs, the bones of her shoulder nudging the flesh beneath his ribs.

They lie there in silence. In this house, he hears in layers. The top layer, the ocean, the waves lapping at the shore, breaking onto the sand. Then something ticking away in the kitchen, his girls breathing upstairs, the sounds of a house at night. And then the layer closest to his heart, Kate breathing next to him, her heartbeats, the soft sigh on every fourth breath as sleep claims her.

He waits for that sigh, holding onto a lungful of air to make sure he hears it. Receives words instead.

"Castle," she whispers, soft tendrils of sleep already wrapped around her voice. "Can we have sky lanterns at the wedding?"

He kisses the top of her head where it rests on his chest, breathes her in. "Whatever you want, love." She hums contentedly. He doesn't know how long it is before he finishes his thought. "If we have lanterns, the wedding will have to be here."

He feels her soft smile against the bare flesh above his heart.

"Perfect."

_Yes, she is_.


	2. Chapter 2

She watches the sun rise over the ocean. Watches the waves crest, lap gently at the horizon, smudging into it. Watches the brilliant peach of the morning sun diffuse into the ink of the night sky.

Between sips of coffee, she rubs absent-mindedly at the empty space on her ring finger.

She's so in love with that man. When she was a little girl, she'd believed in the fairytale romance, in the whirlwind. She'd believed that one day she'd find a man who would sweep her off her feet and treasure her forever.

And then her mother had died and the illusion had shattered. She'd seen how it broke her father, how even if you were happy, it couldn't last. But Rick. Rick had made her see that it didn't matter if it wasn't going to be perfect forever. She just had to be grateful for the moments of perfection she was blessed with.

She wouldn't give him up. She wouldn't change a second of their past, the beauty and the heartache. She doesn't know what's in store, but it's ceased to matter. The feeling of his lips against hers, the unhurried whisper of his heart against her skin eclipses her fear.

* * *

"Good morning, beautiful."

She folds the fluid line of her legs over the lounge chair, settles her feet on the dusty wood of his deck and squints at him, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand.

"Go away." she pokes the tip of her tongue between her lips, crosses her eyes at him.

His face splits slowly into a beaming grin, criss-crossed lines like a road map of his mirth at the corner of his eyes. "Really? You choose_ now_ to uphold tradition?"

Her hand slips down her face to hide her smile behind slender fingertips. She closes her eyes fully, the sun's ascent putting it right at her eye line, blinding her. "Yeah. I don't want to see you, Castle."

He laughs, light and free in the early morning, and steps nearer to where she sits. Sinks to the floor in front of her, crossing his legs. He's only wearing shorts and his knees are solid and fascinating, the strong curve into the solid muscle of his calves.

She dips her head forward, her hair falling into a curtain around their faces. "You don't want to see me because we're getting married today."

She comes forward more, nudges at his forehead with her nose, breathing in the scent of him, toothpaste and aftershave and sleep. "Yes," she breathes, watches his eyelashes flutter against her breath, "yes, because we're getting married today."

He tips his neck back, finds her lips with his. She lets him brush them against her once, twice, and then she draws back. "I'm serious, Rick."

He pouts and it takes everything she has not to tug his bottom lip between her teeth. "Kaaaate, why?" He draws out the vowels like a petulant child and damn if it doesn't make her heart pound against her ribcage.

"Because I want to see your face at the end of the aisle when you see me in the dress for the first time." Her words are quiet, and so is he for a moment.

He kisses her again, smiles against her mouth. "You're going to ruin me. And I can't wait."

She laughs, pulls away, swats at his naked pectoral. He sighs and grumbles but unfolds his legs, gets to his feet.

"What if I just went and stood in the entryway and yelled 'I'M GETTING MARRIED', that'd get everyone up don't you think?"

She stands up too, drawn to him despite her desire to uphold tradition. She slings her hands low around his hips, locks her fingers at his back. "Let them sleep. They got here kinda late yesterday, it's only fair."

She smirks as he tries to look put out but only succeeds in beaming at her. She squeezes his flesh, warm where he's soaked up the early morning sun, and then shoves gently on his chest. "Go on. Go shower."

He turns to leave and she catches his wrist, dips her chin so she can look at him through the thick expanse of her eyelashes. "See you at the altar."

His jaw drops comically. "Oh my God. I always thought it'd be me spouting the cliché lines, never you. _Katherine Beckett_, I'm shocked."

She rolls her eyes at him, doesn't hide her smile. "Really though, I don't want to see you again until the ceremony. Remember the plan?"

"Yeah, I remember. Guys get the ground floor, girls get the first. I got it."

"Okay, good. See you."

He turns away slowly, hunches his shoulders and makes a show of looking as dejected as he can. The sun creates a glare on the sliding glass door; once he's over the threshold she can't see him anymore.

She sighs to herself and downs the last dregs of her coffee in one gulp before heading inside. Time for Lanie to get the hell up.

* * *

Kate flops down on the Latina woman's bed, curling her legs underneath her, and bounces up and down. The whole bed shakes and Lanie extends an arm to swat at Kate.

"Lanie, get up, get up."

Lanie rolls onto her back and groans, mashing her pillow into her face for a second before launching it at Kate with disconcerting accuracy.

Kate stretches out across the bed horizontally, ankles hanging off the edge. "Lanie, please wake up. I'm getting married today."

Lanie groans and arches her back, sinks down onto the mattress and finally, _finally _opens her eyes.

"Yeah I know. But it's-" she rolls her head to the side, looks at the clock on the nightstand. "Oh God. It's eight am and the ceremony isn't until one. That's five hours, and you're probably not even going to need five minutes."

Kate pokes her best friend in the ribs. "I'm not saying we have to start getting ready. I just- I'm so nervous and excited and I don't know what to do with myself and he's the only other person awake but I told him to go away because I don't want to see him until we're at opposite ends of the aisle."

Lanie sits up and shuffles back to lean against the headboard, the strap of her camisole sliding down her shoulder. "Kate, honey, deep breaths okay. It's gonna be fine. Girl, you're marrying the love of your life today. You got nothing to be nervous about."

Kate sucks in a breath through her teeth, nods. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I woke you."

Lanie laughs. "Don't be. Somebody's gotta calm your crazy and the usual suspect is out of bounds for today, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Lanie swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, taking a second to stretch again. Her shorts and camisole show off her plentiful curves and Kate's hit with a momentary surge of jealousy before she remembers that it doesn't matter. Rick loves her body, worships it.

"Come on honey, let's get coffee, breakfast."

Kate climbs off the bed. "How about we make breakfast for all the girls and bring it to them in bed. After all, the ground floor is supposed to be out of bounds for us today, especially me."

Lanie laughs again, quietly. Usually her laugh is raucous, but she's obviously conscious of everyone sleeping. "Alright, I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

* * *

"Kate, darling, you look wonderful."

Kate turns to look over her bare shoulder, ignoring Lanie's sigh as she tries to pin up the chestnut curls. "Oh, Martha. Thank you."

She doesn't look all that wonderful really. She's sitting in front of the mirror in just a towel while Lanie plays with her hair. But she can see it, the glow of happiness exuding from her.

"Richard's going to be speechless."

All three women laugh at the idea of Castle actually being speechless. Lanie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Martha moves closer and sinks gracefully into another chair next to Kate. "You know, it did happen once. The very first time he got to hold Alexis, he just opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Didn't say anything."

Something in Kate's heart swells. She can just picture it, Rick at twenty two, holding his newborn baby. She knows how deeply he loves his daughter, sees it in the way his eyes light whenever she's near.

There's a soft rap on the door and then the girl herself slips into the room. She hesitates for a second, eyes scanning the room. Jenny's sitting in the corner, resting one hand on the prominent curve of her stomach while she holds her book with the other. Lanie stands behind Kate's chair, with Martha sitting next to her.

Kate smiles warmly at Alexis. "Hi. Come and sit down. Once my hair's done we're going to do the bridesmaids' hair, so unless you haven't showered yet you might as well stay."

Alexis smiles then. "Yeah, okay. I already showered. You look great. Lanie's doing a good job."

The medical examiner shoots her a look as if to say 'duh' and then grins. "You next, girl. I can't wait to get stuck into that gorgeous hair of yours."

Alexis laughs and Kate turns around again, content that the girl feels comfortable. It's a strange feeling, hits her out of the blue sometimes. That she's not just getting a husband but a daughter too.

Martha reaches out to squeeze Kate's knee and her heart clenches. She's getting a whole family. She's getting a mom.

* * *

Her dad tears up when she comes down the stairs, the silk of the dress swirling around her ankles. Lanie and Alexis hang back at the top of the stairs, give them a moment of privacy.

Her father hugs her tight, careful not to disturb her hair. "Oh Katie. You look so much like her. She'd be so proud of you."

She swallows hard, buries her face at her father's neck. "Please don't make me cry. Lanie'll kill me if I ruin the makeup."

They share a watery laugh and then the ME is ushering Alexis down the stairs and past Kate. "Good luck honey." She calls over her shoulder and then she's gone.

Jim hooks his arm through Kate's and smiles at her. "Ready?"

She nods, unexpectedly mute, and he leads her towards the aisle.

* * *

He knows it's a cliché, but when she appears at the end of the aisle he swears his whole world pinpoints to her. He's suddenly blind to everyone else, can only see her. She looks so beautiful and so nervous and his heart hammers frantically against his ribcage. He can't believe he's hers. He just can't bring himself to believe that he's the one she's chosen, that he gets the honor of spending the rest of his life with her.

He spends approximately half a second internally remarking upon how he didn't feel this way at either of his other weddings before they fall from his mind. Neither of his other brides were Kate. Neither of them had her shy smile, her bright green eyes fixed on his.

He swallows hard. He refuses to cry. Not yet, not before the damn ceremony even starts.

* * *

Her father cries first. She can see him from the corner of her eye, tears sliding silently down his cheeks. Rick's mother has grasped his hand in a vestige of comfort. She doesn't cry. She's never been one to cry with happiness. Rick's eyes are shining suspiciously but he controls it.

She watches his throat move, is so entranced that she almost forgets to say her part but she does and then they're _married_ and then he's kissing her, bending her backwards for everyone to see and she doesn't care, can't feel anything past the slide of his lips against hers.

* * *

He loves this dress. He has one hand at her lower back, nestled in the achingly soft silk, the other resting on the softer still stretch of skin between the lines of her shoulder blades. They're not even really dancing. They'd considered getting lessons like Ryan and Jenny, but eventually decided against it.

He doesn't want to twirl her round. He wants this. Gentle rocking back and forth, feeling her shift in his arms, all muscle and supple skin and grace. Everyone is watching them. His mother and daughter, her father. Lanie and Javier, Kevin and Jenny.

Their family. They didn't want to invite anyone else. He's done big and showy twice already, knows now that really the only person he truly needs to be here is the woman in his arms.

He nudges the gentle curl of her hair out of the way with his nose, finds the shell of her ear with his lips. "Everyone's looking at you. You're so beautiful."

He feels her cheeks warm against him, has to force himself not to follow her heat when she pulls her head away slightly. "No, they're watching _us_."

He reaches his hand up to cup the back of her head; draw her in until she rests against him. She's barefoot in the sand and it puts her at the perfect height. Her ear rests over his heartbeat.

"Hmm, I guess so."

They're quiet for a moment, listening to the music and the waves. He's so glad they chose to do it here. It was beautiful this morning, watching her watch the sun rise over the ocean. It was beautiful this afternoon during the ceremony, the gentle breeze caressing them all. But now, now it's utterly breathtaking.

The sky is totally clear, the stars watching them again, just like the night he asked. Someone, his mother perhaps, has strung fairy lights through the railing on his deck. There's a bonfire crackling nearby, floating lights on the surface of the swimming pool.

Earlier, he'd watched the sun set with Kate in his arms, kissed her hair and whispered everything his heart needed her to know. Tried to convey his gratitude at being hers.

Now, though, he's immersing himself in their little family. He wanted to keep it as small as possible. There's no caterer: he, Kate, his mother and his daughter had spent the previous two days cooking everything. No DJ, just an iPod playlist he and Kate made in bed one night. No photographer, Lanie and Alexis are in charge of that.

The song ends and someone pauses the playlist. He turns around, catches Javi's pointed gaze and clears his throat. "Uhm, we'd like to do a father-daughter dance and then we'll open the floor to everyone."

Jim and Alexis step forward. He presses a last kiss to Kate's temple. "I love you," and then he lets her go, takes his daughter in his arms.

"Hi, pumpkin. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

His daughter blushes, but it's true. Kate picked purple for the bridesmaid dresses, strapless and knee length. Both Lanie and Alexis look stunning.

"You look good, Dad. You look happy."

He leans in to kiss his daughter's cheek. "I am. So very happy." In his peripheral vision, he sees Kate and her father murmuring to each other. There are tears in both their eyes. He knows they're probably discussing Johanna.

He told Kate earlier that her mother would have been so proud, but he's trying not to dwell on it. He feels a tangible ache, can't even imagine how Kate has the strength to do this.

He wraps his arms around his daughter, starts swaying gently. "I want to thank you. For being so accepting of this. I know it can't have been easy watching me get married for the third time."

Alexis hums, is quiet for a moment. His daughter has never been one for outburst, always preferring to think everything through before she shares it. "It's not really the third time though. It's the first time it's been for you instead of me."

He's struck dumb by her. He suddenly knows with perfect clarity that she's not his little girl anymore; she's a beautiful, intelligent young woman. And she's right. He married Meredith because she was pregnant; he married Gina because Alexis needed a mother.

But Kate? He's marrying Kate because he loves her and he wants a life with her, forever.

* * *

She's watching him dance when Martha claps her hands to rally everyone into a circle.

He danced with his daughter and then his mother. With Lanie and with Jenny. There was some sort of freestyle thing with the boys that she refused to even watch, buried her face in her champagne and dragged Lanie to the bathroom to touch up her makeup.

He keeps coming back to her, their inexplicable magnetism stronger than ever. She finds him at her side again now, his palm hot against the small of her back.

"Now my son and my lovely daughter in law are going to release a sky lantern and then we have more if anyone else wants to as well."

Rick groans and buries his head at her neck. "Trust my mother to turn this into a tacky cliché."

She runs a hand up his spine, cups the back of his neck and guides his mouth to hers. "Shh, it's fine. Come on, they're waiting."

* * *

He forgets to watch the lantern again. He just can't help himself. He's absolutely transfixed by Kate and the delight that softens every line of her face. His _wife_.

He can't think about that yet, doesn't trust himself not to weep. He crowds her back and wraps his arms around her, palms at her stomach. Her head falls back to lean against his shoulder and he rests his lips at her temple. She's so beautiful.

Once their lantern is out of sight he does another with his daughter. Kate and Jim do one, the boys another and his mother, Lanie and Jenny the last one.

Everyone's very quiet as the lanterns rise, stunned into silence at the unexpected beauty of them. He knew, has never forgotten the sight of the light rising through the inky sky and Kate's joyous smile as she said yes. But even he was not prepared for the magnitude of emotion that swells in his chest now.

Kate comes back to his side and rests her cheek at his bicep, her nose nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt. "You okay?"

He smiles down at her. "Yeah, just… feeling grateful. For my family, for you."

She stretches onto her tiptoes, a hand at his shoulder for balance. Her lips are so soft against his and his blood sings in his veins as she works over him. His wife. She pulls back and nudges at his nose with hers. "Yeah, I get it. Love you."

He kisses her again for that. "Oh Kate. I love you so much."

* * *

It's ridiculous, but when he calls her Mrs Castle she almost wells up. Even though there have been two before her, even though she's still Beckett at the precinct. It just gets to her.

How far they've come. She's proud of herself, and of him, for overcoming everything that stood in their way. He knew long before she did that this was worth waiting for, worth fighting for, and she's still not satisfied that he understands how grateful she is.

"Kate?"

Oh. She got so caught up in her thoughts she forgot to actually answer his question. "No, Castle, I don't have a bouquet to throw. Lanie and Jenny are already taken so that leaves either your mother or your daughter. Is that what you want, one of them to be the next to get married?"

She laughs at his exaggerated shudder. "Didn't think so."

Lanie appears at her side, nudges her hip against Kate. "We're all gonna head to the hotel now honey. You two have fun, try not to break anything."

Her cheeks heat as Rick laughs and she smacks Lanie on the arm. The three of them follow the others out to the cars; make sure everyone has their luggage. Rick hugs his daughter and Kate hugs her father and everyone very pointedly does not mention the reason that they're going to a hotel instead of staying at the house.

Kate still blushes every time she remembers that it was her _father_ who suggested the guests clear out after the wedding to give the newlyweds 'free reign'.

* * *

He holds Kate's hand at the end of the drive, waves to their family as they pull out of the driveway and onto the road. The two of them watch until they can't see the cars anymore and then he turns to her.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees and then he lifts her. She shrieks and wraps her arms around his neck. "Are you seriously going to carry me over the threshold?"

He grins, wants to kiss her but doesn't allow himself. When he kisses her, he loses all concentration, and he _really_ doesn't want to drop her. "Damn right. And I'm going to do it at the loft as well, so prepare yourself."

She rolls her eyes at him but tightens her arms. He takes it as permission and sets off up the drive. He sways precariously at the steps but he makes it onto the porch, walks all the way around and in through the sliding glass door to the kitchen.

He carries her all the way over to the counter and settles her on it. Her legs wrap around his waist and she pulls him in to her, devours his mouth.

He pulls back, pants, has to go back for more because the sight of her lips smudged with his kiss is an aphrodisiac so strong he has no hope of resisting. "I love you, Mrs Castle. I love you so much."

He presses his lips to her breast bone, skirts her clavicle and traces a path up to her ear with a hot line of open mouthed kisses. She moans when he sucks on her earlobe, her hands at either side of his face to keep him there. "Oh God, Rick. Castle, take me to bed."


End file.
